“Brynn, I've seen—”
“Just close them, OK?” I glance at him to make sure he's complied, and then stand up and begin to gather my clothes from the floor. I slip everything back on as quickly as I can, and then look back at him. His eyes are closed, and he's sitting nude and perfectly still on the edge of the bed. He looks as perfect as I've ever seen him look, which is really saying something. My heart breaks a little, as I move to the door and shut it behind me.
I hurry down the hall and into my own bedroom, which now feels cold and empty. I crawl into bed without bothering to take off my clothes and pull the covers over me. I'm no different to Nate Thornhill than any of the other girls he's been with, and I should have known that. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
I hear a soft knock at the door and pull the covers up a little higher, but don't answer. If it's my mom, I don't want to see her, and if it's Nate, I really don't want to see him. There's another knock, a little louder, and then the door is slowly pushed open. I can just see Nate's shadow in the moonlight. He closes the door behind him and moves into the room. To my surprise, he walks around the foot of my bed and to the other side, then hops on, lying down over the covers next to me.
“I'm sorry,” he whispers, laying his hands over his stomach.
“You don't have to apologize. You were just being honest.”
“No, I think I do. And I'll stop interfering with you and other guys.”
I clear my throat to keep the pain down. “Good.”
“I don't really have female friends…” He says.
“Dana?”
“Dana and I are, well, fuck buddies, mostly. And that's what she wants, too, so it's OK.”
“Mmm.”
“But I'd…I'd like us to be friends.”
“We're already step-siblings,” I point out.
I can hear him smile next to me. “True. But that wasn't by choice.” He pauses. “I like you. I can't deny that I'm attracted to you, of course, but I'm just not the relationship kind of guy. Not to mention the kind of issues that dating my own stepsister would bring up.” He sighs. “So can we be friends?”
I consider for a moment. If I'm Nate's only female friend, then I really am different to him. Maybe not in the way I'd most like, but still, it's something.
“OK. Friends, then. Wait, actually,” I turn onto my side and face him. “Before we're officially friends, I have to ask you some non-friend questions.”
“OK…” he replies warily, turning on his side, too.
“Was I…am I…OK at all that stuff? You know…”
He laughs. “What we just did, you mean? Yes. You are more than OK at it.”
I smile. “When did you lose your virginity?”
“When I was fourteen.”
“Wow.”
“She was my friend's older sister.”
“Wow.”
“How many women have you slept with?”
“Oh my god, I don't even know…”
“Wait, really? You don't even know?”
“I mean, dozens? I don't count.”
“Sheesh. OK, one more: why aren't you the relationship kind of guy?”
He pauses. “I don't know,” he says softly. “I tried a couple times, but that kind of closeness, it just makes me uncomfortable. That's all I know.”
I nod, sensing he's telling me everything he can, and roll back over onto my back. I like the feeling of lying here with him next to me. I feel much more comfortable than I would have thought possible. I feel my eyes beginning to flutter closed as sleep pulls me under.
“Brynn…I…” I can just hear Nate say. “You're going to make some man very happy one day.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“I'm just glad the whole thing has blown over,” Greg says as we pull off the Beltway. I nod as I look out at the trees whizzing by in the dark. The woman who accused Pierce of sexual harassment rescinded her claims after it turned out she had accused two other former bosses of the same thing. “It just feels like there's been a shadow over the office for the last month.”
“Yeah,” I reply noncommittally.
Greg clears his throat as we near my house. “So, I'm glad we got the chance to go out again,” he says.
“Me too,” I reply with a smile. This is our third date, and he still hasn't tried anything. I'm wondering if tonight will be the night. A nervous silence falls over the car as we pull through the gates and onto the driveway. He stops in front of the house and then turns to me.
“Why don't I walk you to your door,” he suggests.
“Sure.” A few butterflies begin to fly around in my stomach. We undo our seat belts and hop out, meeting around the front of the car and walking up to the front door. I glance at him out of the corner of my eye and wish there were something calming I could say to him, because he looks way more nervous than I do. We reach the door and turn to each other.